


The Honey and the Moon

by Chash



Series: dragonsssssss [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Temeraire Fusion, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 06:17:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke's a Captain, so of course she's going to have a child. She knew it was coming eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Honey and the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Holiday fill for [crownandsword](http://crownandsword.tumblr.com/)!

It’s actually Lexa’s idea.

“I want to have an egg,” she announces one morning, out of nowhere.

Clarke glances at Bellamy, who shrugs. “An egg?” she asks.

“Costia got to have one,” Lexa says, with some petulance. Clarke has to smile; she knew Lexa was jealous her mate had an egg and she didn’t, but it’s still very cute to hear her complaining about it. “And I would have excellent eggs. It would be terrible if I didn’t have any. For the Corps.”

“That’s definitely true,” says Bellamy, straight-faced. “We wouldn’t want to deprive the world of Lexa’s eggs.”

“And then the two of you could have one as well,” Lexa continues.

“What?” asks Clarke, blank.

“If I am out of commission to carry my egg, that would be a convenient time for you to have yours.”

It’s not like they’re not having children. Children are a given. But Clarke had been happy with the thought of children  _someday_. She hadn’t had a specific timetable for them. They had been a nebulous concept.

She looks at Bellamy again, and he looks as surprised as she feels. “That is true,” he says, careful, once he recovers. “Female riders with female dragons in the service often coordinate their pregnancy with their dragons’. It’s convenient.”

“I knew that,” says Lexa. “That’s why I suggested it.” She squints at Clarke. “You do still want them, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she breathes. “I do.” Her voice is stronger when she adds, “Have you discussed this with Costia? Temeraire?”

“Not yet. But Costia will be happy. And so should Temeraire. My children will be able to breathe acid.”

Clarke isn’t convinced that’s true–there are plenty of Longwings in the breeding grounds who don’t have to leave active service to reproduce. Costia was only bred because she was a night flier, a breed Britain is severely lacking. But if Clarke wanted to have a child anyway–

“I don’t see any reason not to mention it,” she says, slow. “If Temeraire thinks it’s a good idea, I don’t have any objections.”

That night, Bellamy just says, “Just because she’s having a child doesn’t mean we have to.”

It’s careful, the way he says it, as if he’s been rehearsing it in his head.

“Do you want to?”

His smile is wry. “I’m not the one who has to have a cannonball in my stomach for the better part of a year,” he says, which isn’t really an answer.

“And if you were?”

“Then we wouldn’t have to schedule around Lexa, since I’m not the captain. It would be much easier.”

“Bellamy,” she says, and he smiles.

“I know. I like children. I’d like to have some of my own. But we’d be out of commission for longer than Lexa would be grounded. They do need a little raising before we turn them over to the Corps.”

“But you’d like one.”

“I believe we were in agreement on wanting one.”

“I meant you want one  _now_.”

“It really is your decision,” he says. “But if we’re weighing me into it, yes. I’d be happy to have a child now.”

“Of course we’re weighing you into it,” she says, poking him in the side. “Just because I’m carrying it doesn’t mean your opinion doesn’t matter.”

He tugs her into his lap and kisses her. “I’d like children as soon as you’re ready,” he says. “And if you are ready, you should let Temeraire know. If you’re having a child anyway, Lexa might as well have one, but I doubt he wants to put her out of commission if you’re not.”

“So I had better do it,” Clarke says, amused. “Or else Lexa will find out her eggs are not particularly exciting for the Corps.”

“How selfless of you,” he teases.

“Hush. Do you want to start trying to impregnate me or not?”

He opens and closes his mouth a couple times and then nods. “Yes,” he finally says. “I’d like that.”

It doesn’t change much at first. She removes her dutch cap, and she and Bellamy lie together with the intent of pregnancy, instead of just for pleasure, and it feels more purposeful, their coupling. She gets some unwanted advice from concerned older women about diet and the timing of her monthly cycle and sexual positions, which she passes onto Bellamy primarily so that she isn’t the only one who has to know that Emily Roland is concerned about her fertility, and Lexa asks daily if Bellamy has been successful yet, which is embarrassing at first but quickly becomes routine, but everything else is business as usual.

After four months, she can’t help starting to worry.

“How long does it usually take?” she asks Bellamy. It’s their day off, and they’re spending the morning tangled in bed. It’s still nice, even though there’s an edge of tension in it now for Clarke, the voice in the back of her head wondering if this time will be it, if she’s pregnant yet.

“Not nearly that long,” Bellamy says, pressing his lips against her hair. “Believe me, my stamina is much better than most men. You made the right choice.”

She shoves his side gently. “That’s not what I meant, ass.”

“I don’t know,” he says, voice going serious. “I’m more accustomed to trying  _not_  to impregnate women. It can take time, though. I wouldn’t worry yet.”

“What if I can’t have children? What will happen to Lexa?”

“First off, it’s too early to worry about that, it’s only been a few months. Second, I could be the problem, which is something to look into if it takes much longer. If that’s the case, you could just get someone else to do it.” She frowns, arms tightening around him, and he laughs and kisses her. “You’ll still have me. It’s just for the dragon.”

“She wouldn’t like it being someone else’s child either. And if it wasn’t a girl–”

“I’m not saying that will happen,” he says. “But it’s not the end of the world if it does. Monty isn’t going to marry, so he could use someone to have a child for him anyway. It’s an option. And if it’s you, well, Lexa likes me. She might take my child if it came to that.” He squeezes her. “But it’s not coming to that for a long time. Try not to worry, all right? Lexa will be fine, no matter what. And so will we. I love you.”

“I’m not worried,” she says, into his collarbone. “But I don’t want anyone else having your children.”

“I don’t either. But if you’re worried about Lexa, that’s a solution. If we haven’t had any luck in a few years.”

“A few  _years_?”

“There’s no rush,” he says, easy. “I mean it. You’re young, you’re doing good work for the Corps, and we’re trying. You can see a doctor if it will make you feel better, but–just relax and enjoy all this wonderful sex we’re having, okay?”

“I’ve had better,” she says, smiling.

“That would be a more effective taunt if you’d ever had sex with anyone but me,” he says. “I’m sorry I’m not living up to my own high standards, though.”

She closes her eyes, lets out a breath. “You won’t mind if I can’t have children?”

“I’d rather we could have them together,” he says. “But no, I won’t mind. My primary motivation for marrying you wasn’t children.”

“No?”

“Definitely your fortune,” he says, and she laughs and rolls all the way on top of him. He grins up at her. “Feeling better?”

“Much. I still think we should try again.”

He sighs, heavy. “Well, if you insist.”

After almost eight months, Clarke’s monthlies don’t come, and she buries her face in Bellamy’s neck when they don’t come for a second month in a row.

“Now you have to be pregnant, though,” he says, pressing his lips to her temple.

“I think I’ll survive,” she says, sniffling, and his arms tighten. Not everyone does, of course. It’s strange to think of the danger of pregnancy, when she’s in the Aerial Corps and risks her life in combat all the time. “Now you need to stop worrying,” she tells him. “It’s good news.”

“Things can still go wrong,” he says. “But of course I’m happy.” He pulls back to grin at her. “We’re having a  _baby_.”

“We’re having a baby,” she agrees, and takes his hand so they can go tell the dragon.

She’s taken off active duty almost immediately, no one wanting to risk the health of the baby, and most of her crew is assigned elsewhere, with the exception of Bellamy. Clarke assumes everyone realizes he’s almost as much Lexa’s captain as she is, and they know better than to try to send him to a different crew, when both his wife and his dragon are likely to need him.

Lexa’s pregnancy is approved as soon as Clarke’s is confirmed, and she complains, loudly and repeatedly, about how terrible males are, and how unfortunate it is that they’re necessary for the production of eggs.

“I’m right here, you know,” Bellamy comments mildly. “I like to think I have at least a couple other uses.”

“You don’t count,” says Lexa.

“That doesn’t actually make me feel better.” He strokes Clarke’s hair back from her forehead. “But I appreciate the effort. And we all appreciate your sacrifice for the good of the Corps.”

“My children will be very powerful,” she says, confident. “As will yours. Will it be a girl? I want it to be a girl.”

“We won’t know until it comes out,” Bellamy says, dropping his hand down to Clarke’s stomach. The swell of the baby is still small, barely noticeable under her clothing, but he likes to touch it anyway, this small, uncertain awe on his face as he feels the evidence of their child under his fingers. “But I hope it’s a girl too,” he adds, a catch in his voice. Clarke remembers his own history, the son born to a mother who needed a daughter, and finds his hand to squeeze.

“I’ll be happy either way,” she says, genuine. “And I can’t imagine we’ll only have one.”

He laughs and noses her temple. “Wait until the pregnancy is over to make promises like that,” he says. “My mother said she’d never done anything worse than push babies out.”

“I do think parents should be honest with their children, but I think your mother could have stood to tell you a little less.”

“Is it painful?” Lexa asks, sounding anxious. “Costia didn’t say–”

“Worse for humans than dragons, I think,” says Clarke. “But I’ll be fine.” Lexa huffs, and Clarke pets her snout. “I will. Humanity has survived this long, so having children can’t be very difficult.”

“I’m going to remind you that you said that,” Bellamy says, and Clarke rolls her eyes.

“Feel free.”

When she’s five months pregnant, she tells her parents, and, to her shock, she, Bellamy, and Lexa are invited to stay with them until the baby comes, and for her recuperation.

“Do they still hate me?” Bellamy asks, squinting at the letter.

“My father never hated you.”

“Thanks. Your mother?”

“If she hated you, she would have just invited me. You’ve already done your part, after all. Including you in the invitation at all is a good indication she’s trying to be friendly.”

“Huh,” he says. “Do you want to go?”

“Honestly? Yes. The beds would be more comfortable, the doctors are more used to dealing with pregnancy, and it might be nice to be away from all the curious people and dragons.”

“And you’d want me to come,” he says, voice even.

“I’m not going without you,” she says. “And I get that you might not want to, so–this was meant to be a discussion, not a decree.”

“If your mother hates me, can we leave?”

“Yes.”

“And Lexa can come?”

“She has to lay the egg here, but I doubt anyone would object to her coming until then. Dragons aren’t as knocked out by pregnancy as humans are.”

“The bed is much more comfortable,” he says, and Clarke nearly tackles him in her joy.

She is unreservedly grateful for her mother when the baby does come; none of her friends have had children of their own, have no experience to offer. Her mother is practical and brisk, and she even gives up on kicking Bellamy out when he says he helped with his sister’s birth. Between the two of them and the doctor, they help her through what she’s told is a fairly easy birth, and after a few hours of labor, she has a healthy baby girl.

“Thank god,” says Bellamy, his grin the brightest she’s ever seen.

“I would have been happy with a boy,” she says. “I would have been happy with any baby.”

He laughs and leans in close to her and the baby, nuzzling her temple and staring at their child with wonder. “I know. But now there’s no pressure on us. If we don’t manage another, Lexa will still be taken care of.”

Clarke’s mother is watching them with warm fondness, pride even, and Clarke smiles back. “Do you have a name?” she asks, soft.

“Is it bad I had a name for my dragon all picked out, but not my daughter?” she asks Bellamy.

“There’s more pressure to name the dragon right away,” he says.

“Do you have a name?”

She hears him swallow, watches his fingers brush the baby’s wisps of hair. It’s dark, like his, “Athena,” he says. “I always–the first time I thought you might love me, it was in Athens. When we were getting Costia. So–”

“Me too,” says Clarke, remembering his giving up on his dragon, staying with her. “Athena Blake.” She closes her eyes and rests against his chest. “You’re going to have to take her to meet Lexa,” she adds, already falling asleep.

“I think it can wait until morning,” he says, arms tightening around the two of them. “Get some rest, Clarke. It’s over.”

“We have a child,” she says. “I think it’s just beginning.”

“All the more reason to get some sleep,” he says, kissing her hair. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

“I know,” she says, muzzy, and the last thing she hears before sleep takes her is Bellamy, singing to their daughter.

It’s a nice start.


End file.
